


Red Vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles Part 4

by IeshaFox



Series: Red Vs. Blue [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Comedy, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IeshaFox/pseuds/IeshaFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back where it all started, it seems, things have gone just the slightest bit awry, what with Grif freaking out, and Church encountering a new life-form. But, what's the sword, that Tucker still carries, for? What is "The Great Prophecy," and who is the Great Destroyer from said prophecy? All this and more, hopefully, in the fourth part of Red Vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Familiar Surroundings

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to take a moment to remind you, once more, that this does not belong to me, whatsoever. This is all for Rooster Teeth's popular webseries, and none of it belongs to me. It belongs to RT, so enjoy the novelized masterpiece!  
> As well, I'd like to apologize for my small absence in writing this. I've been busy with National Novel Writing Month. In December, I can fully promise I'll get right back into the swing of things, and I'll be ready to go full-force into this one.

Blood Gulch was far from silent  
that day. It had been a while since  
the Blood Gulch Crew had  
returned, and Grif maintained  
a screaming position on the Red  
Base roof.  
He screamed, and screamed,  
annoying his fellow Red soldiers.  
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!  
Nohohohoooooooooohaoooooooooooooo!"  
Donut was rather tired of this, and he  
was the first to announce his complaints.  
"Is he ever gonna stop screaming?  
He's been up there for hours."  
"Simmons, shut him up!"  
Sarge ordered the cyborg of a  
soldier known as Simmons.  
Sarge was the leader of the Red army,  
and Simmons was his right-hand man.  
Grif was the idiot in orange,  
and Donut was the most inferior,  
in ranks, in the team, wearing armor  
shaded pink.  
"Hey Grif," Simmons,  
garbed in maroon armor, shouted up  
to his teammate. "Shut the fuck  
up! Get down here and help us  
check out the base!"  
"No! No!  
Noooooooooooooohohohooooooooooooooo!" Grif, who seemed to be  
paying no attention whatsoever,  
wailed.  
Simmons sighed, looking  
to Sarge, "I don't think he's  
even listening to us."  
"Noooooooo," Grif yelled,  
"Actually that time I was answering  
your question noooooooooooo!" All  
of this was said within just a few breaths.  
"Heugh." Sarge grumbled,  
looking up to Grif.  
"Noooooooooooooooooooo,,"  
"Go up there and get him  
Simmons." Sarge ordered.  
"Oooooooooooooooooooooo,"  
"If he keeps screaming like that,  
he's gonna pass out and fall off  
the cliff." Donut informed as  
Simmons did as he was told,  
heading toward Grif.  
"Cancel that order, Simmons!"  
"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,"  
As he continued screaming Sarge  
sighed once again, then turned  
to Donut. "Donut, get me a  
sniper rifle."  
"Yes sir."  
"Oooooooooooooo."  
Meanwhile, somewhere else, the  
Blue soldiers, Lavernius  
Tucker, and Michael J.  
Caboose stood with the Freelancer  
Agent Allison Texas.  
"And he says, "Did I read  
it? I already ruined it!`" Tucker  
said, completing one of his mishaps  
of a story.  
"That's disgusting." Tex said,  
pulling a face.  
"I don't get it."  
Caboose, undoubtedly the most  
ignorant of the Blue team  
members, remarked.  
"What, the fuck, was that." a  
voice stated, emphasizing his  
words as he materialized. It  
was Leonard Church, the Blue  
teams' leader, currently.  
"Hey Church!" Caboose  
greeted ecstatically. He seemed  
to have a feeling that Church was his best  
friend, when in fact, Church hated his  
guts.  
"Hey." Tucker greeted,  
less enthusiastic.  
"Huh?" Tex asked.  
"Isn't anybody gonna ask  
me, "What happened to your body,  
Church?`" Church asked, glaring  
his best ghostly glare at his team.  
"What happened to your body  
Church." Both Tex and Tucker  
asked, rolling their eyes.  
"What happened to some, body,  
Church?" Caboose asked, a little  
slow.  
"Hell if I know. All I  
know is, I was sittin' there talkin'  
to Gary, and,"  
"The bomb?" Tex interrupted.  
"No that's Andy, Gary is the  
computer." Church corrected.  
"Neh, I don't even  
remember most of your names half the  
time." Tex shrugged.  
"I know my name! You can ask me,  
if you forget."  
"Hey, can we please focus on  
me?" Church asked, just the slightest  
bit irritated with his team.  
"By the way, he's Church."  
Caboose remarked' indicating him.  
"Yes, thank you Caboose, she  
knows." Church glared at him.  
"He is the mean one."  
"Thank you, Caboose." Church  
raised his voice, but the rookie  
did not understand.  
"See, he is mad. Now  
he'll just stare at me until I  
stop talking, then, when he thinks  
I am done talking, then he will start  
talking again." Caboose explained,  
a little familiar with the situation at  
hand. Indeed, Church did get mad  
at him quite often, so this was not new.  
After a moment of silence, Church  
staring at Caboose, seething with  
quiet anger, finally he began  
to speak again, just as Caboose had  
explained. "Okay. I was talking  
to Gary and,"  
"Told you so." Caboose said.  
"God dammit!" Church cried  
in frustration.  
"Classic Church."  
"I wonder if a ghost can have an  
aneurysm." Tucker made the  
off-hand comment, peering curiously at  
Church.  
"Anyway," Church said, sighing,  
and attempting to regain his composure,  
still frustrated with what had  
transpired within the base. "I was  
talking to Gary about the Great  
Destroyer, who at the time we thought  
was Tex."  
"The Great Destroyer has  
arrived. The end is near." Gary  
babbled on, just like before, saying the  
same thing as before.  
"Oh come on Gary Gary Gary,  
stop stop stop. Hey if Tex is  
not the destroyer from the prophecy,  
then who is?" Church asked the  
computer  
"And that's when I turned around, and  
I saw," Church paused for  
dramatic effects.  
"Saw what? Saw  
O'Malley?" Caboose asked,  
standing right in front of the Church in the  
story, which shouldn't have physically been  
possible.  
"What the- Caboose, get  
outta the story man. No it  
wasn't O'Malley."  
"What was it?" Caboose asked  
eagerly.  
"Stop interrupting me, and I'll  
tell you."  
"A helicopter?"  
"Yeah Caboose, shut up."  
Tucker said harshly.  
"Hey, Tucker, you're  
interrupting now too. Everybody just  
get outta here." Church said, glaring  
at the Blues.  
"Me? I'm just tryin' to punch  
up the story line. Check this out."  
Thus Tex appeared near a  
ledge, and spoke in Tucker's  
voice, "Hi everybody, I'm  
super horny from all the robot  
killing. Hey is it hot in here?  
Who wants to help me out of this  
heavy armor. This breastplate is so  
itchy."  
"Bow chicka bow," Tucker  
stopped, noting Tex, who had  
started to raise her gun, leveling it  
at him. "Whoa, story's over."  
"You're a pig." Tex said,  
disgust evident in her voice.  
"I didn't even get to the part  
where the sailors show up."  
"Just tell us, what did you  
see?" Tex asked, turning her  
attention to Church.  
"Um, it was a really big,"  
Church trailed off, not sure how  
exactly to explain what he had  
seen. "Thing."  
"That's your story? You saw a  
big thing."  
"Eh, my story had a big thing  
in it too. You just didn't give it  
time to develop."  
"Well, I didn't really get  
a clear look at it." Church  
said, completely ignoring Tucker's  
dirty remark.  
"At Tucker's big thing."  
Caboose said.  
"No dumbass, at the big thing  
in the base that attacked me. All  
I know is that it was slimy, and it had  
lots of teeth."  
"Kinky." Tucker said, grinning  
at Church.  
"Seriously dude, cut the  
shit." Church said, glaring at his  
teammate. "We've got a  
situation on our hands."  
"Well, how did you fight it  
off?" Tex asked, still wondering what  
all happened to Church.  
"Fight it off? You must have me  
confused with someone who's brave. I  
got the hell outta there." Church  
exclaimed.  
"You're telling me you left your  
body behind?" Tex asked, looking  
at the base.  
"I had to get outta there fast.  
That body was just dead weight."  
"I know the feeling." Caboose  
remarked stupidly.  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
"Hahahaha," Tucker mocked,  
laughing aloud. "Some slimy toothed  
monster scared the crap outta  
Church! Haha!"  
"He didn't scare the crap  
outta him," Tex corrected,  
joining in, poking fun at Church.  
"He scared the soul outta him."  
"Oh it's Church, what's the  
difference? His soul is made outta  
crap. Stupid crap for soul."  
This last response was more of an  
afterthought, as if for reassurance.  
"For all I know, he's in there  
chewin' on my body right now."  
"Well, then let's go get this  
big thing of yours." Tex remarked  
boldly as she hefted her weapon.  
"Bow chicka bow wow."  
"Oh shut up." Tex snapped.  
"Shut up Tucker."  
"Did somebody call for a really  
hairy plumber? Bow chicka bow  
wow!" Tucker said.  
"Tucker. Shut up." Church  
stated, glaring at Tucker.  
"I came here to lay some pipe.  
Bow chicka bow wow!"  
"Tucker!"  
"So I hear you got sisters.  
Bow chicka," he paused for just a  
second, "Who're twins, wow  
wow!"  
"Shut up."  
"Hey, are you a model or  
famous actress? Bow chicka bow  
wow!" Tucker continued, paying  
absolutely no attention to the  
reprimands.  
"Shut up."  
"Bow chickachicka,"  
"Shut up."  
"Gow wow chicka,"  
"Shut up. Shut up!"  
And thus it continued for moments on  
end, seemingly endless, Tucker doing  
his own thing, and not even caring that it  
irritated his team, even Tex.  
But, he babbled on.


	2. Hunting Time

"Nooooooooooo, whoa!"  
Grif cried as a bullet came  
flying through the air, just missing him.  
"No! No no no!!" he  
cried as sniper bullets came  
through being air. He began to move  
back and forth as his teammates  
proceeded to fire at him.  
"That was close!" Sarge called  
out.  
"Thank you, sir!" Simmons  
called, having been the one who shot.  
"Nooo!"  
Another shot, and Sarge cried  
out, "Donut, you're going outta  
turn."  
"I thought I went after  
Simmons." Donut complained.  
"No, we go in line. It goes  
you then me, then Simmons, then back  
down to me then you, then me then me,  
then Simmons then me then me then  
Simmons, me, me Simmons you  
Simmons me me me Simmons  
you. Me. Then me again. It makes perfect sense!" As Sarge  
explained this, he pointed, indicating  
the order it went.  
"But doesn't that mean you go  
twice as much? Or," Simmons  
paused, doing the calculations in his  
cyborg head. "Ten times as much?"  
Sarge fired, noticing Grif's  
lack of movement. The bullet  
streaked through the air, and it hit its  
mark with a satisfying call of,  
"Ow!"  
"This is the best game since   
Grifball." Sarge declared.  
"I'm not comin' down!" Grif  
shouted down to them.  
"Hey Grif! Move back and  
forth like one of those ducks at the  
carnival!"  
Sarge fired, hoping for good  
sport, but his bullet flew  
over Grif's helmet as he  
ducked. "No, don't duck,  
that makes you harder to hit." Sarge  
cried up at him. "Act like a  
duck!"  
"Wait a minute, that was my  
turn!" Simmons complained.  
"This is the Lightning Round."  
"Who's in the Lightning Round,"  
"Me." Sarge remarked immediately.  
"Alright, fuck this, I'm comin'  
down!" Grif exclaimed.  
"OW!" Grif cried as a  
bullet from Sarge hit its mark.  
"I said I'm comin' down!"  
"Hyaha, buzzer beater! Take  
that you stupid duck."  
Church, Tucker, Caboose,  
and Tex stood outside the base,  
keeping watch for the big alien that was  
said to reside within. "We haven't  
seen that alien thing come out, so he's  
probably still hiding in there."  
Tucker informed.  
"Or, eating Church!" Caboose  
exclaimed, even though that was not a  
matter of enthusiasm.  
"Alright then. Let's roll."  
"Okay," Church said, taking  
a deep breath. "Here we go," but  
there was no movement. It seemed  
Church was a little nervous.  
"Uh," Tucker started,  
"We're not moving."  
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Church  
said, clearing his throat. "Here we  
go." he repeated.  
Still no movement.  
"We're still not moving."  
"Does talking count as moving?"  
Caboose asked, looking  
to Church's ghost.  
"All right, screw it. You  
guys get behind me, and stay tight."  
Tex stated, taking a step forward.  
"Bow chicka bow wow." Tucker  
muttered.  
"Never mind, Tucker's in  
front."  
"Eh, it was worth it."  
Back with the Reds, outside the  
base, the group watched the base.  
"All right, men. Stay out of  
sight. We have to be prepared for  
anything." Sarge remarked.  
"Uh, why are we hiding from our  
own base?" Grif asked, looking  
at the base.  
"Because, we have no idea what's  
inside."  
"Anything could have occupied the  
base after we jumped into the future."  
Simmons agreed.  
"Oh my God! What if  
we're in there?" Donut asked,  
and he showed faint signs of  
incredulity.  
"Yeah," Grif started, then he  
shook his head, to him it made no  
sense. "No, wait. Aren't we  
out here?"  
"I mean past versions of ourselves.  
We could go in there and meet ourselves.  
Oh man, we'd be best friends,  
we'd have so much in common. Finally,  
someone who shares the pain." Donut  
looked at the base.  
"Donut, that's not how time  
travel works." Simmons said.  
"We don't leave copies of  
ourselves behind, and even if we did  
they'd all be eight hundred years  
old. They'd all be dead by now."  
Simmons too looked at the  
base, but he diverted his attention  
to his pink teammate.  
"Speak for yourself, I could live  
to be eight hundred. I'm on  
this awesome diet!" Donut  
remarked.  
"Still doing that high fat, low  
fibre liquid diet where you drink  
nothing but bacon grease?" Sarge  
asked.  
"Nah, that was just a fad."  
"What's the new one?"  
"I only eat foods that begin with  
vowels." Donut grinned.  
"That sounds really hard, what did  
you have for breakfast?"  
"Eggs and Oreos. And for lunch  
I'm having asparagus," he  
paused, then added, because he couldn't think  
of anything else, "And Oreos."  
"Holy crap," Grif  
exclaimed. "I've been on that  
diet for years! I had no idea  
I was so healthy! I even cut out  
all the eggs! And I don't even  
know what asparagus is."  
"All right men, stop your  
chatterboxin'." Sarge ordered,  
preparing to move. "We've got  
to keep our eyes open for any  
sign of enemy activity. I can't  
have you not paying attention. You have to be  
alert! Constant vigilance.  
Composed, attentive!"  
Sarge did not notice as  
Grif, Donut, and Simmons,  
all looked away, spotting a  
tank in the background. It seemed  
to resemble Sheila. But, after a  
moment, when it passed, the three  
looked back to Sarge who said,  
"See? That's much better."  
"Hey," Church said, looking  
to Tucker. "Why didn't you bring that  
glowing thing?"  
"No way, I'd rather have a gun."  
Tucker said, laughing at the comment.  
"But I've got a gun."  
"What're you gonna do, shoot  
it with ghost bullets?" Tucker  
glared at him.  
"Okay yeah, that's a good  
point."  
"Hey I'm Casper, the Friendly  
Bullet." Tucker said, still mocking  
Church.  
"Hey," Tex called to them  
from below, "See anything?"  
"Nope!"  
"You know, Andy was here when I got  
attacked. Maybe he knows  
something." Church said, remembering  
a little more of what happened. "Hey.  
Andy. Andy!"  
Church went over to a window in the  
large base, calling to the bomb.  
"Hehehey, look who's  
back! The dickhead!"  
"Hey, up yours." Church  
whispered to the bomb.  
"You back for another beatin? It  
must be asskick-o'clock!" the bomb  
began to laugh.  
"Where's that big alien thing?"  
Church asked, looking into the base.  
"I don't know, last time I  
saw him he was halfway up your  
ass."  
"Is this bomb giving you a hard  
time?" Tex asked, glaring at the  
bomb with feral eyes.  
"I see you brought a girl with  
you." Andy continued to mock, barely  
containing his laughter. "What're you  
gonna have, a crying contest?"  
"Hey look, there's my body,  
right there." Church said, peering through  
the window, and spotting his corpse.  
That was when something else caught  
his attention. Not a sight, but more of a  
sound. It sounded like, "Blargh."  
Tucker looked around inside the  
base, and with a panicked yelp, he  
cried, "Huh? There it is!"  
Immediately, all three startled,  
each of them started to cry out, running  
backward, and shooting at the shadowed  
figure inside the base.  
"Jesus, run!!"  
"Crap!"  
"Oh my God oh my God  
oh my God what the fuck is that  
thing?!" Tucker cried as he and  
Church fired at random, not even  
hitting the alien once.  
"Run!!" Church kept  
screaming.  
"Women and children last!"  
"Run run run run run run  
runn!" Church cried again, and again  
as all three leaped for Caboose.  
"Heheh, what, you leavin' already?  
That's fuckin' hilarious!" Andy  
mocked, laughing.  
"Ahhh, run run run run  
run!"  
"Did we win?" Caboose  
asked as each of his team members  
came running by him.  
"Yeah Caboose we won, this  
is our victory lap!"  
"Hey come back in, I think  
you're tirin' him out!" Andy cried.  
"You're killing me! Haha ha!"


	3. Fight Or Fright

"I'm telling you it was here."  
Simmons was speaking to Sarge. But,  
Simmons had a feeling Sarge  
did not believe him. "It drove  
by while you were talking. You had your  
back turned, and it went zoom, right  
behind you!"  
"Well it really sounded like,"  
Donut cleared his throat before  
continuing, making strange noises.  
"Ehhhhhhhhrchugachugachurah,  
my leg ah!"  
"That's not the important part of the  
story, Donut!" Simmons glared  
at the rookie.  
"Sure, Simmons, I  
believe you. You saw an enormous  
tank that appeared miraculously, and  
then just as quickly disappeared. And you're  
the only one that can see it. Just like  
signs of Donut's  
heterosexuality." Sarge said,  
sarcasm dripping on his tone.  
"No I'm not," Simmons  
argued, "Donut saw it!"  
"Yeah." Donut agreed.  
"Donut's impressionable.  
He'd agree with anything you said."  
"Yeah." Donut said again.  
"Aw hell, he'd eat a  
spoon full of dirt if you told  
him it tasted like chocolate." Sarge  
chuckled.  
Donut gasped in mock  
surprise. "That's not true!"  
he cried out, looking from Sarge,  
to the ground beneath their feet.  
"Huhuh, so that's where you draw the  
line?"  
"No," Donut started, his gaze  
going back to the ground. "I mean  
it's not true that dirt tastes like  
chocolate, right?" Nobody  
answered his question. "Seriously,  
right?" he repeated his question.  
"Okay," Simmons started,  
sighing in frustration. He looked  
to Sarge, then Grif, "Grif saw  
it too. We all saw it."  
"I don't know what you're  
talking about, I didn't see a  
damn thing." Grif said blankly.  
"What?"  
"Tank you say? I have no idea  
what you're talking about. I was too  
busy paying attention to our Sergeant  
while he gave us our orders."  
"Oh really, well what did he  
say?" Simmons argued.  
"Something inspiring about beating the  
Blues, and the base or the flag er,  
or something. I'm pretty sure he  
mentioned a pole cat too, I was  
getting a little emotional at the end."  
"You see Simmons? Some  
soldiers know how to pay attention."  
Sarge said, even though what Grif  
said was complete, and utter bullshit.  
Simmons wanted to say something  
to protect himself, but he couldn't find  
the right way to convince his team.  
Meanwhile, Grif stated,  
"Wow, that might be the first time you've  
ever actually compli,"  
"Shut up dirtbag." Sarge  
interrupted, dowsing Grif's  
hopes.  
"Grif, you just told us two  
minutes ago that you saw it."  
"Hyeah, I know, but it's a lot  
more fun this way." Grif answered.  
"Ugh, man I just cannot fuckin'  
stand the idea of my body laying in  
there." Church groaned while the  
group stood outside the complex.  
"Heh haeh, you never looked  
better!" Andy mocked.  
"Hey shut up, Andy! You know,  
we could have taken that alien out if  
I'd have hit him just a few more  
times." Church stated.  
"A few more times? How about one  
time?"  
"Well, I think I landed at  
least two or three shots."  
Church said, lying to himself.  
"Yeah right."  
Tex looked at him, then the  
complex, adding, "You didn't hit  
anything but the wall."  
"How the hell would you know, you were  
runnin' straight backwards."  
Church protested.  
"This is a long range weapon,  
okay? I need distance to use it  
effectively."  
"Where were you planning on shooting  
him from, the fucking moon? If you'd  
have backed up any further you'd have  
had to mail him the bullets."  
"You know what? I work better  
alone. You ladies stay here,  
I'll be back in two minutes with  
that thing's head on a platter."  
Tex said confidently, starting for the  
complex again.  
"Does it ever bother you that the most  
take-charge guy on our team is a  
girl?" Tucker asked when she was  
out of earshot.  
"Not at all. As long as I  
get my body back I don't  
care if I'm a hero." Church  
said. He looked between his silent  
teammates, and confusion passed over  
his ghostly features. "What?"  
he asked the blank-faced  
soldiers.  
"Huh, well, Church you're  
kind of a long way from "hero."  
Wouldn't it have been better to say  
"I don't care if I'm a  
participant?" Or maybe  
bystander?"  
"Shut up." Church stated  
simply.  
"Or a decoy."  
"Hey, Caboose, don't  
help him okay?" Church told  
the rookie.  
"Hey she's going in, you guys  
think she can take him?" Tucker  
asked, observing Tex's movement.  
The sound of a hit, a blow  
exchanged, was heard, then, Tex  
saying, "Oh crap."  
"Nope."  
"Come on Donut, give someone  
else a turn!" Simmons called  
as Donut flew around on the  
strange motorcycle. Grif  
watched his maroon teammate, who was  
watching the pink soldier.  
"Wait, wait, I wanna show  
you guys a bunny hop I'm workin'  
on. Look!" He began to do a  
strange movement "N-No wait,  
now, he, look, look, awh, oh  
man, I was totally doin' it  
earlier, why weren't you guys watching  
then?" Donut nearly crashed  
into the ground in his attempts.  
"I need it to find the tank!"  
Simmons called to him.  
"Wheeeee! Woooooo!  
Woohooo!" was all the soldier  
responded with.  
"Grif. I wanna share something  
with you. And you can't let Simmons  
know." Sarge said seriously, looking  
to the soldier he hated the most.  
This truly was a sign of dire  
times ahead of the Red team.  
Grif badly wanted to tell  
Sarge to fuck off, but, then again,  
Sarge was his superior officer, so,  
there would be something that happened if he  
said as such. But, then again, he did  
not care. That's why, his response  
was, "Whatever."  
"I think that Simmons has gone  
mad. It's probably some kind of  
Time Travel Post Traumatic  
Repetitive Stress  
Syndrome." Sarge stated  
dramatically. "In scientific  
terms, he's developed Cranial  
Insanitosis. Basically, he's  
gone bonkers."  
"Sarge, I'm not crazy, I  
really saw a tank." Simmons's  
voice said over their helmet  
radios.  
"And apparently he's developed  
some kind of mutant telepathy  
power." Sarge said, developing a  
hasty generalization of Simmons.  
Clearly he did not believe the  
story Simmons proposed.  
"Clear your mind Grif, he can  
hear your thoughts!"  
"No, you guys just left your  
mics on again. I keep telling you  
not to do that 'cause you're just wasting the  
batteries. Oh and guess who  
rechar,"   
"Clearly he's sabotaging us with  
his superior technology. Grif,  
I need you to step up to the plate.  
You're my number 2 man now."  
Grif scowled skeptically at this  
remark. How could he, the soldier  
Sarge hated the most, be the number  
2 man? Grif thought that the world would  
explode before that happened. Although,  
technically, the world had exploded.  
"Does that mean more work?" he  
asked.  
"Of course. You'll have to do  
Simmons' regular duties on  
top of the responsibilities I  
normally entrust you with."  
"So basically just Simmons'  
duties then." Grif sighed. This  
army sucked.  
"Right. Luckily we still have  
Donut, so no one has to fill in  
his shoes." To prove this, Sarge  
looked to Donut, still fooling around  
on the flying piece of alien  
technology. "Donut!" he  
cried, "Combat situation!"  
"Yes Sir, I'm on it."  
Donut took a deep breath,  
and, dismounting the vehicle, he began  
to scream.  
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!" he  
screamed like a woman.  
"What a pro. Simmons,"  
Sarge stopped, then corrected  
himself, "I mean Grif! Establish  
a perimeter!"  
"Huh? What's that?" Grif  
asked.  
"Make a border around us, and  
make sure no enemy crosses  
it."  
"Huh, that sounds like a lot of  
effort. Can't I just go back to being  
number 3 again?"  
"Number 3? Whaddaya mean  
Number 3?"  
"Oh right, Donut. Can I go  
back to being number 4 then?"  
"And Lopez."  
"Fine. I'll be number 5,  
I don't care." Grif stated.  
And this time, like most of the times he said  
this trademark quote, he truly  
did not care.  
"I don't know, that O'Malley  
guy can really work a rocket  
launcher."  
"But he's the enemy!" Grif  
protested, blinking in confusion.  
"I'm not real particular. Now  
get to work on that perimeter! Bogey  
approaching!"  
"Sir I really think we should be  
looking for that tank." Simmons  
said, approaching.  
"Hold on a minute. Let's  
just take it easy there, Private  
First Class Dick Simmons."  
"But I," Simmmons started as  
Grif began to draw in the dirt.  
He was using his sniper rifle as  
Simmons continued, "Hey, what?  
Why did you use my full name?"  
"Grif, what in Sam hell are  
you doin'?" Sarge asked, noting  
Grif's actions.  
"I secured your perimeter  
Sir. Now I'm gonna go over  
to the chow hall and secure some  
Oreos. I got a diet to keep  
up. Break time!"  
"Honeymoon's over,  
numbnuts! You're back down  
to number 7!" Sarge yelled as  
Grif ran toward the base.  
"Oh yeah? Well I saw the  
tank too!"  
"Maybe Caboose should try  
talking to him." Tucker suggested,  
looking from Caboose, to ghostly  
Tex and Church.  
"Uhh, what would I say?"  
"Start with some common ground. Like  
how you both killed Church."  
Tucker advised sarcastically.  
"Mmm, good times."  
"You know I actually like that  
idea." Church said, surprising them  
all.  
"You do?"  
"Well, think about it. While our  
Ambassador here is either being a,  
eaten by the alien, or b, digested,  
by the alien, you and I can sneak back  
in and get our bodies." Church  
said.  
"I would make an excellent  
Ambidasdor, because I am very shy!"  
Caboose said, not even knowing what the  
which word meant.  
"Get away from me freak!"  
"You know if that word's too hard  
to pronounce, you can just call yourself  
bait." Church stated.  
"There's my body." Tex, who  
was standing at the top of a ramp, said.  
"Oh yeah, hey look, there's  
your body. Heh heh heh huh, you  
really didn't make it very far, did  
you." Church snickered at this.  
"You know I wonder, if I  
killed a ghost, would it come back as  
a ghost of a ghost?" she asked  
threateningly, looking at Church  
with curiosity.  
"Yeah that's a good point I'll,  
shut up now."  
"Hey Andy. Say, have you  
seeeeen, it's a big uh, slimy,  
like alien looking thing it's uhhh,  
it's shaped just," Caboose had come  
across Andy the bomb, and was looking for the  
big alien. It was slinking across a  
wall, its shadow casting across the  
room. And that was when Caboose saw  
it. "Kinda like that shadow that's on the  
ground next to you." Then he realized  
it. "Oh."


	4. Fair Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarge informs the Reds of the competition, while Caboose attempts to be the smartest person on the world by thinking he can speak alien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but here you go!

"Alright men," Sarge was informing  
Grif and Donut, "Donut.  
Since Simmons has been  
demoted for reasons of dementia,"   
"The tank was real!" Simmons  
protested, interrupting Sarge's  
sentence.  
"And he's been ordered by the  
Judge to stay at least two  
hundred yards away from us," Sarg  
attempted to continue.  
"Oh come on, that wasn't a real  
Judge, that was Donut wearing a  
powdered wig!"  
"Over," Donut cleared his  
throat, "Huhem, ahuhh," then,  
in a deeper voice, "Overruled.  
Shame on you. Hurr."  
"We are now holding auditions  
for the permanent position of Second  
in Command, here at Blood Gulch  
Outpost Number One." Sarge  
said, looking to Donut.  
Simmots, who was two hundred  
feet away, looked on in confusion.  
"WHAT?!" he shouted across the gap  
between himself and the other red soldiers.  
"And since Simmons is  
disqualified because of the aforementioned  
cookooness, and since Grif is  
ineligible," Starge was interrupted  
once again, this time by Grif.  
"Or because I don't wanna  
compete?"  
"Because you're ineligible!"  
"No, I just don't want  
to compete." Grif argued.  
"Of course you don't, because you're  
ineligible!"  
"Whatever."  
"I guess that means I get the  
job, because I'm unopposed, which is  
the same way I got "Most  
Likely to be Fabulous" in high  
school." Donut stated, grinning  
proudly.  
"Actually Donut," Donut  
looked down, then back to his  
sergeant, his hopes thrown to the  
ground, "I managed to find some other  
candidates for you to compete against."  
"Huh?"  
"We've located an old wrench  
used by Lopez, and this skull of  
unknown origin. Some dirt and a  
rock entered the preliminaries but they  
didn't make it to the semifinals."  
Sarge said, then muttered under his  
breath, "Lazy bastards."  
"Hyes. You guys are goin'  
down. In yo face wrench, in yo  
face! Take that, bonehead, ha  
ha ha, woo!" Donut taunted  
confidently.  
He had the confidence, but the true  
question was: Did he have the courage,  
strength, and whatever else was  
required of him? Sarge was not  
sure.  
"You will be competing against each other  
in a series of grueling events, in  
order to gain my attention. First up,  
the obstacle course, Grif! Get  
the alligators!"  
"I thought I was ineligible."  
Grif protested.  
"To earn my respect,  
dirtbag. You're still perfectly  
capable of grunt work."  
"Oh man, I can't believe this."  
Simmons grumbled. "My life  
was going exactly as planned. I was  
second in command of a marginally  
successful unit, I had a  
superior officer who genuinely cared  
about me, I had the respect and  
admiration of all my peers. That was  
the dream! How did it all go so  
wrong? How! Hahahahow!?  
Maybe that stupid tank was just a  
figment of my imagination."  
"I don't think so." came the  
robotic voice as Sheila the  
tank.  
"Shut up, you ruined my life."  
he snapped at her.  
"I think I will call him  
Crunchbite."  
"Eh, that's a stupid name."  
Andy commented.  
"Uh, well I think it's  
better than your suggestion,"  
Caboose fired back, then tested  
what must have been the other suggestion.  
"Crouchosaurus?"  
"Caboose, who're you talkin'  
to,"  
Church, who had come up  
to Caboose, the bomb and the alien  
creature, blinked, and cried out,  
"HOLY SHIT!"  
"Blargh!" was all the alien  
remarked with.  
"Stop! He is my friend."  
"Blargharg."  
Church blinked, stopping in his  
tracks many, many feet from  
Caboose, still in hearing distance.  
"He is not going to eat  
anybody." Caboose assured.  
But, Church did not relax.  
Instead, his ghostly muscles tensed  
within his cobalt armor.  
"Yeah, he thinks you guys stink  
too much to eat." Andy piped up.  
"Blargh." the alien seemed  
to agree.  
"He thinks we stink?" Tex  
asked, almost wrinkling her nose.  
"Blargh blargh." the alien started  
to explain.  
"It smells like someone set a  
fish on fire in here." Andy  
translated.  
"Largh?"  
"Caboose, what the fuck man,  
are you sure about this thing?" Church  
asked, looking at Caboose.  
"Absolutely, he has not  
tried to bite me, at all."  
"Hnnk!" the alien exclaimed.  
"Since he bit me the first time."  
Caboose corrected himself.  
Church sighed inwardly.  
Maybe that was why the alien had such  
an attitude toward the humans,  
and how they tasted.  
"Heheh yeah, that was hilarious."  
Andy chuckled.  
"I think I might need a  
tetanus shot."  
"Blargh blargh, largh hnnk  
blargh." the alien spoke.  
"Whoa, that thing's breath smells like  
infected cheese on a  
hotplate." Church exclaimed,  
coughing.  
"Largh, blargh!"  
There was a bunch of protestations,  
as Lavernius Tucker walked  
down the ramp of the base.  
"I don't think he liked that."  
Andy explained, the alien almost  
yelling. Church was almost certain that  
the alien was using whatever language  
he spoke to swear at the Blue  
soldiers.  
"Whoa, man, what is that stench?"  
Tucker asked, coughing within his  
helmet as he came to the others.  
"Hargh."  
"Is a skunk juggling dead  
hamsters in here?"  
"Largh."  
Sadly, Tucker was only making  
things worse.  
"It smells like old yogurt."  
"Largh, whargh, wharharhrgh."  
"Did you eat and then throw up a  
can of trash?"  
Church sighed, hoping that Tucker  
would just shut the fuck up.  
"Hnnk!"  
Caboose looked to Tucker,  
then to Andy, remarking, "That's  
exactly what he said right before he  
bit me."  
"Largher, hnnk! Hrarhrh."  
"You understand what he's saying?"  
"Largh..." the alien trailed off  
into a silent seething rage.  
"Whey hey wait, I think  
I'm hearing a pattern here. I  
think that blarghs come after honks. Or,  
vice versa." Church said, in a  
sudden revelation. Though, he was far  
from correct.  
"I think, I think blargh  
means, me, or, apples."  
Caboose replied, always having  
to add his two cents into the conversation.  
"Guys, Apples must be the name of  
his cat! Quick, quick, is," he turned  
his attention to the large alien, "Is  
Apples stuck in a tree? I will  
call the fire department."  
"Mister Huge Alien, do you  
understand what we are saying?"  
"Wharrrgh!" the alien cried.  
"I have no idea if that means  
yes or no."  
Everyone seemed to forget that the  
explosive known as Andy, was still there.  
But, the bomb did not want  
to translate for these idiots.  
"Totally blows away your vica  
versa theory. Sorry." Caboose  
said.  
"You two are retarded. You're not  
gonna be able to figure out alien  
language by experimentation, give it  
up." Tucker said.  
"You don't know that!" Church, who  
was determined to figure this out,  
replied.  
"You don't even know how they  
talk. What if their language  
isn't entirely verbal? It could  
be part telepathic, or via  
smells." Tucker coughed  
violently as he said this last part.  
"Whoh."  
"Well if it's via smells  
then you should be fluent in the language  
already. Jackass." Church  
muttered.  
"Hnnk!"  
"Oh shut up, you're not  
helping."  
"Wait! I think Tucker might  
be right. I think he might be saying  
things telepathically. I just heard  
something in my head!" Caboose said  
stupidly.  
"What? What was it?"  
"It was a voice, saying,  
"Blargh blargh blargh honk." I  
think,"  
"That wasn't in your head  
Caboose, he just said that. You're  
just so dumb you're lagged a few  
seconds behind us. By the time your brain  
figures out what it's heard, it  
feels like it's already happened."  
Caboose paused, everything going  
quiet, finally he responded, as  
if proving Church's comment true.  
"That's not true. Wait! I  
hear something else in my head! It  
must be Apples, trying  
to communicate with me! Quick, Tucker,  
get a ladder!"  
The group only stood for moments  
as the alien continued blarghing, and  
honking, no other translations  
needed.


	5. Lost In Triangulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More stupidity from the Blue team.  
> Red team has a winner.  
> Simmons runs away, oh no!

While the Blues were acting like  
complete idiots, like usual, in the  
large complex, with the large alien,  
Sarge was busy addressing the Reds.  
"Alright dirtbags," he started,  
"After the third round of the competition,  
it's still anyone's contest."  
"Yeahah, burn wrench,"  
Donut cried, stupid enough to believe  
the wrench, and the skull were inanimate  
objects. "Anyone includes  
me! Hahah."  
"Donut was leading after the  
obstacle course," Sarge continued,  
informing everyone watching, which was nobody  
but the late second man,  
Simmons. "And in the talent  
contest."  
"Awesome. Whodihoo!" Donut  
cried in triumph.  
"But then the mysterious skull  
pulled ahead during the question and answer  
session."  
"That doesn't seem physically  
possible." Donut commented, glaring  
at the skull.  
"So the standings are the skull,  
Donut, and in third the wrench. Which  
is the current crowd favourite."  
The Reds, namely Grif, who  
had just listened in on the conversation,  
looked to the Warthog, wrench  
propaganda posted on it, as it  
beeped.  
"Haha, maybe the skull will be  
your new sidekick. "Hey  
Sarge, how can I kiss your ass  
if I don't have any lips?"  
Hahaha." Grif laughed.  
"And in last place," Sarge  
paused for barely a second, before  
remarking, with no surprise  
to anyone, "Grif."  
"What? I thought I was  
ineligible!" Grif protested, his  
laughter ceasing.  
"Ineligible to win, dead man.  
Luckily there's no chance of that  
happening since the last round is the  
evening-wear competition."  
Donut piped up,  
enthusiastically, "Whohoa, you're in  
trouble now skull."  
"Then can I quit?" Grif  
huffed, starting for the base.  
"Course not, only eligible  
contestants can withdraw from the  
competition. I guess you'll just have  
to settle for fifth place  
turdbelly."  
"Fifth place?" Grif asked,  
blinking. He sighed as he then  
responded, "Should I even ask  
who's in fourth?"  
"I'm reserving fourth place for  
any late entries, who would  
obviously be better than you. Such  
as a turd, or a turd farmer."  
"Hey Gary, is there any way  
that you could translate what this big  
alien is saying to us?" Leonard  
Church inquired of the computer.  
Church had just about had enough of this  
bullshit, especially with that  
dumbass, Caboose, doing his best  
to translate, incorrectly.  
"No." was all Gary said.  
"Aw come on man, isn't this one  
of the aliens that built you?" Church  
asked, not giving up.  
"Yes, but I do not know much about  
those creatures. I was only  
programmed with knowledge of the shisnos."  
Gary explained, "I mean you."  
"Yeah, listen man, that word is  
really startin' to bug me a little  
bit." Church sighed, stepping from  
foot to foot.  
""You did not even know what it  
meant until I told you." Gary  
pointed out.  
"I know but you just say it so much."  
So, fucking, much, Church thought,  
but he kept his composure.  
"I only say shisno in context,  
like when talking to a shisno or about a  
shisno." After a pause, Gary  
continued, saying, "I think I see  
what you mean shisno."  
My name, Church thought, is  
Church. But, still he refrained from  
blurting out in frustration.  
"So you'll stop."  
"Inter-species prejudices  
take a long time to overcome. But,  
I will try." Gary said.  
"Thanks."  
"Luckily, I am not lazy like  
a shisno."  
"Yeah it's pretty clear you  
mean to give this your best effort."  
Church said, starting to turn away.  
"I think the important thing is  
that I am trying."  
"Okay. Church, is trying  
to get a translator. So that we  
can talk to each other." Tucker  
explained, dumbly, to the large  
alien, still inhabiting the large complex  
they had come across.  
"Tucker, the enormous alien  
doesn't speak our language,  
speaking slowly is not gonna  
help." Church, who had come across  
Tucker while wandering, criticized.  
"What? I'm talking  
to Caboose." Tucker said,  
looking to the idiot of the Blue  
Team.  
"Oh." Church said.  
"I don't understand. Are- are,"  
Caboose started, looking at  
Tucker in confusion, and almost concern.  
"Are you Hungary? Tucker are you  
Hungary? Are you cold?"  
"What? No." Tucker cried  
out.  
"Do you need a blanket?  
Tucker, do you want some hot dogs  
in a blanket?"  
"Dammit no, Caboose I'm  
not cold, I don't want a hot  
dog, and if you put mustard in my  
fucking sheets again I'm gonna  
kill you." Tucker exclaimed,  
glaring fiercely at Caboose.  
"Okay gargantuan alien, now  
that we have decided to keep you, you  
need a real name. I vote for  
Fluffy."  
Tucker shook his helmeted head,  
"Fluffy?"  
"Fluffy! The alien that only  
loves!"  
Only loves? Yeah right, only  
loves to use us as chew toys,  
Church thought, looking cautiously  
at the alien.  
"He's got to have a name. Why  
don't we just ask him? Hey alien  
dude, what's your name?" Tucker  
asked, turning his attention to the alien.  
"Name." he slowed his speech as he  
introduced the group. "I am  
Tucker. This is Church. That's  
Bitchpants McCrabby." he  
indicated Tex, clearly excluding  
Caboose.   
"Hey!" Tex protested.  
"Well that's what we call you."  
"Not me, I call you Mrs.  
McCrabby." Caboose assured,  
but, Tex's glare did not fade.  
"Thanks."  
"What, is your name?"  
"Hernk Hurnk." the alien  
responded.  
"Your name." Church pressed.  
"Hernk Hurnk."  
"Nayymuh." Church grunted.  
"Just keep repeating it Church,  
I'm sure he'll come up with the right  
definition on his own." Tucker said,  
earning a glare from his superior  
officer.  
"He is Tucker. Tucker.  
You are?"  
"Hernk Hurnk."  
"No no. No. Not "honk  
honk." Name." the Blue soldier  
said.  
"Hernk Hurnk."  
"Okay, I give up, all this  
guy says is honk honk."  
Church stated, sighing, and stepping  
away.  
"Well," Tex started, "Have you  
ever considered the fact that his name is  
Honk Honk?"  
"Glwargh?"  
"Do you have any idea how stupid  
that sounds?"  
"Hyeah, I mean seriously,  
what kind of name is Honk  
Honk?" Church sided with Tucker.  
"Glwargh?" the alien questioned.  
"Hey, big alien, is your name  
Honk Honk?" Church asked.  
"Lwargh."  
"Hey wait a second, I think  
blarg means yes. Alien, does  
blarg mean yes?" Church asked,  
with a new revelation.  
"Blarg."  
"Holy shit!" Church cried  
in triumph, believing what he  
saw, "Blarg means yes, he just  
said yes blarg means yes. I  
speak alien!"  
"Yeah, unless blarg means no."  
Tex remarked. "In which case, he  
just said no, blarg does not mean  
yes."  
"What, no way." Church  
scoffed. He was convinced he was right,  
so he put his question to the test. "Hey  
alien, am I right?"  
"Blarg."  
"Haha, see?" Church said  
triumphantly. "What the fuck do  
you know?"  
Sarge stood before the Reds, and  
he had an official announcement.  
Grif, however, was barely paying  
attention.  
"After the final tabulations,  
we've declared a winner! Grif, the  
envelope please." he looked  
to the orange soldier  
"Envelope? We don't have any  
envelopes, this is the army." Grif  
said.  
"Donut's the winner." Sarge  
said, ignoring Grif's protests.  
"Hoh, yes!" Donut cried  
in enthusiastic triumph.  
"Well, my life's officially  
over. Time to go kill myself."  
Simmons sighed, starting to walk  
away from the Red Base. He had  
no specific destination in mind, so  
he just wandered as the sounds of the Reds'  
conversations faded into the distance.  
"Wait for me!" Sheila's  
voice called after him.  
"Look, no offense imaginary  
tank, but I don't believe in you.  
You're just a product of my  
imagination." Simmons said, turning  
back to face the tank.  
"Actually, I'm a product  
of the military contractor that made  
the lowest bid. I'm a little ashamed  
of that." Sheila corrected, adding  
her own input into the statement.  
"Well leave me alone, I  
can't have some imaginary tank ruining  
my excellent reputation. Now if  
you'll excuse me, I need to go  
dig a hole to live in,"  
Simmons sighed, and started off  
once more. He sighed, then mumbled,  
"I wish Grif was here. I could  
convince him there was food in the ground,  
then he would dig half the hole for  
me. Or, maybe a third of a  
hole. Then he'd use the shovel  
to eat oatmeal. On second thought  
I don't wish Grif was here."  
"You can live with me." the tank's  
voice interrupted him once again,  
and he sighed.  
"Just ignore it, it's not real."  
he grumbled.  
"I have my own base. In fact,  
I've made lots of renovations  
since you all left. See?"  
Sheila somehow, in some magical  
way that seemed physically  
impossible for a tank with no arms,  
she indicated the Blue Base.  
"Hey, that's the old Blue  
base." he remarked, recognizing  
it as he turned.  
"Yes! I was sent to guard it from  
something. I can't really remember  
what, some of my memory banks have  
failed over the years. Do you  
remember what the Blues were  
fighting?"  
Simmons, who did not want  
to get blown up by the massive  
tank that could easily outgun him  
without needing arms, tried to make up  
a lie.  
"Uuuuuuh," he fumbled for a  
few seconds, then leaped at what  
he thought would be convincing. "I think it  
was pirates."  
"Are you sure? I think it was  
another army. I think they were a  
different colour."  
Shit, Simmons thought.  
"No, it was definitely  
pirates."  
"That doesn't sound right."  
Sheila pondered the idea.  
"Yeah, pirates. And, I think  
there were some ninjas that were working with them."  
"Neaw, I don't think so."  
"And I think they had travelled,  
from another planet." Simmons  
remarked. This part was at least true.  
They had travelled from another  
planet to get there.  
"Incorrect."  
"I think it was called  
Cowboyland."  
"Negative."  
"And they were here to rustle up some  
cattle." Please, Simmons  
thought to himself as re continued to make up  
this stupid lie, please, dear god,  
do not think about Red army.  
"No."  
"But the Blues were gonna  
stop 'em."  
"Naw."  
"No wait," Simmons said,  
changing tactics. Might as well  
dig the biggest hole to die in,  
"Monkeys. Monkey pirates."  
"Nope."  
What the fuck, you stupid  
fucking tank?! Simmons thought,  
inwardly gritting his teeth.  
"From, Uranus."  
"My logical data analysis  
sector indicates that would be  
highly unlikely." Sheila said,  
"And my bullshit meter agrees."  
Simmons sighed. What the  
fuck was with this tank? This was getting  
too frustrating to handle.


	6. The Hard Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see what Simmons is up to. Meanwhile, Tucker, Church, and Caboose make an unexpected break in the alien's repetitive attitude. As well, Tex may have another breakthrough.

"Church! Chuuurch, hey  
Church!" Tucker called, trying  
to find Church.  
"I'm right behind you dumbass."  
Church said, coming up behind Tucker.  
"Oh. Hey Church, do you have a  
knife?" Tucker asked, turning  
to face his superior officer.  
"No. That's a weapon dude,  
ask Tex." Church said.  
"She said she had something to take  
care of. Girl stuff I think."  
tucker said.  
"Huh? Like what?"  
"Ha," Tucker snickered, "I  
don't know, I stopped asking questions  
at "girl stuff.`"   
"What're you two guys doin'?"  
Church asked, sighing.  
"We're gonna teach the Alien  
how to speak English."  
"How're you gonna do that?"  
Church was skeptical of this.  
"People learn English all the time,  
it aren't that hard." Tucker said.  
Church almost laughed aloud.  
"Maybe you should try learning his  
language."  
"Fuck that, we got here first, and  
that makes this a colony. Those are the  
rules, dude. Earth colony,  
Earth language."  
"Tucker there's thousands of  
languages spoken on Earth."  
Church corrected him.  
"Hyeah, but only one that kicks  
ass. And that's the one we're  
teaching. English 101, remedial  
kick-ass."  
"Alright, there is no way this is  
gonna work." Church grumbled.  
"Yeah it is, we got visual  
aids and everything." Tucker assured  
him.  
"Where the hell did you get  
those?" Church asked, looking at  
what Tucker held.  
"We made 'em. Turns out  
Caboose's gun didn't have any  
bullets, it was loaded with  
crayons. I just need to cut one of  
these things, you have a pocket knife?"  
Church sighed. What the fuck  
had this army come to? An idiot,  
and another, even bigger idiot.  
Finally, he spoke again, looking  
to the glowing object strapped  
to Tucker's back. "Hey," he  
started, "If you need to cut something,  
why don't you just use that big sword  
of yours?"  
"Oh right." Tucker looked at  
it curiously, then pulled it out.  
"Duh."  
"Whargh!"  
Tucker cut one of the crayons  
as the alien made an exclamation.  
"RHURRRRRRRGH!"  
"Ahh, what the fuck?!"  
Tucker cried as the alien leaped.  
One of its arms came crashing down,  
smacking Tucker in the helmet.  
The alien proceeded to beat the living  
shit, out of Lavernius Tucker.  
"Whoa!" Church chuckled.  
"Mahan, Tucker, that thing either  
really hates that sword, or really  
hates you." he laughed aloud as  
Tucker cried out in pain after each  
hit.  
"Aaaaaaaah, get this fucking  
thing off me!" he yelled.  
"Heh wait a second  
Tucker, this might be a good chance for  
us to evaluate how these things fight."  
Church stood back, and just  
watched.  
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,  
ow," Tucker said, growing weary of  
shouting. He hoped to god that this thing  
would grow tired too.  
"Now hold still. For science."  
"Not the face, not the face!"  
Tucker exclaimed as the alien  
attacked even more.  
Contrasting to his hopes, it was not  
relenting.  
Meanwhile, within Blue Base,  
a certain maroon soldier turned  
on a radio.  
"Sarge, can you hear me, Sarge,  
come in, Sarge. Sarge do you read  
me, this is Simmons, come in,"  
Simmons called through the radio  
repeatedly.  
"Hello, Red Army HQ. We  
don't stop until every blue is  
dead." came a familiar voice.  
It was the voice of Franklin  
Delano Donut.  
"Donut, let me talk  
to Sarge." Simmons said, all  
formalities gone.  
"For help in English, press  
or say 1." Donut said, making  
it seem as if it were just an answering  
machine.  
"One." Simmons remarked.  
"Para Espanol, marque  
numero dos." Donut's voice  
continued.  
"One." Simmons repeated.  
"Wuuunnnnah." he said the number  
slowly. "Wu, god dammit."  
He pressed the keypad's  
number one.   
"For unconfirmed  
Dutch-Irish, press one too, as  
in also."  
"Donut!" Simmons  
exclaimed in exasperation.  
"Oh, hey Simmons, what's  
up?"  
"Donut, put Sarge on."  
Simmons commanded.  
"Oooh, yeah, Sarge is  
reeeally busy. Things have really  
picked up since you left, uhh,"  
Simmons gritted his teeth as  
Donut spoke.   
"Donut, I'm not here."  
came Sarge's voice.  
"Leh, luh, let me see, do  
you mind if I put you on hold?"  
Donut asked.  
"Just take a message." came  
Sarge's voice again.  
"Donut stop screening my  
calls!" Simmons ordered the  
soldier. But, Donut didn't  
listen.  
"Sorry Simmons, Sarge  
isn't available at the moment.  
I'll tell you what, I can ask  
him to call you back but, it's really  
better if you have an appointment."  
"Oh for the love of God I can  
hear him, Donut. Would you just tell  
him that I've captured the Blue  
Base and," he paused for a moment.  
"And taken possession of their  
tank."  
"Right right, Simmons," Donut  
didn't sound like he believed  
Simmons, who gritted his teeth  
once again in frustration.  
"Tell him you've got call  
waiting."  
"Blue,"  
"No no," Sarge was saying.  
"Base,"  
"You're going through a tunnel!"  
"Taaaaaaaaaaank." Donut  
seemed to have relented, and was writing  
the message as Sarge called out  
the incorrect. "Tank." Donut  
said, having finished.  
"Are you really writing this down?"  
"Look I have to go, we have a  
conference call with Grif in five  
minutes. He's pitching ideas for  
how to use your rations. Gotta  
run! If anything comes up, we'll  
call you. And Simmons?"  
Donut paused the formalities on  
his end for one last, infuriating comment.  
"What?" Simmons asked,  
afraid to do so.  
"This job is the best! I can't  
believe you quit!"  
The connection went dead, and  
Simmons stayed in that position for a  
few moments before stating aloud.  
"That's it, I'm gonna kill  
'em all." Then he called out  
to the tank of Blue Base. "Hey  
Sheila, lock and load! We got  
somewhere to go!"  
In the meantime, Tucker still lay  
on the ground, the alien mercilessly  
beating him in the back of the head,  
while Church watched. "Ow. Ow.  
Ow. Ow." he kept saying with each  
blow.  
"Alright bomb, we need  
to talk." Andy did his best to look  
at Tex.  
"Heh hehhh heh heh heh,"  
Andy chuckled, "Talk about what,  
Butch? Workin' on cars, and  
pickin' up chicks?"  
"Excuse me, is that any way  
to talk to a lady?" Tex asked,  
a little pissed off by this.  
"A lady, who're you kidding? I  
bet you got more balls than a roman  
candle."  
"Uhhh," Tex grunted. "I  
knew this was a bad idea."  
"Hey Tex, why you got black  
armor, couldn't find any in  
flannel?"  
"Listen jackass,"  
"Flannel!" Andy cracked  
up, not noticing the plain fury  
that crossed Tex's visored face.  
"I put you together, I can take you  
apart." Tex said simply.  
"Hey whaddaya mean?"  
"Bombs, come with remote  
detonators dumbass." Tex  
started to explain, "And any time I  
want, I can just hit a button and  
you're just a memory. A very  
annoying, very insulting memory, but  
nonetheless, a memory."  
"I think you're bluffing." he  
paused for a moment, then added,  
insultingly, "Dyke."  
"Okay, strike two." Tex  
said threateningly, but making sure  
to stay calm. Or, as calm as she  
could be in this kind of situation.  
"Alright. Whaddaya want?"  
Andy asked reluctantly.  
"Well, when I built you, I  
used parts from an old protocol  
robot."  
"Yeah, sure, and you also used  
parts from some of your more personal  
devices."  
"Whoa," Tex glared as this came  
out into the open. For now, she had  
to drop it. She had to see if Andy  
could helm them.  
Her intention, in fact, was to see  
if Andy could translate for them,  
and the alien. "Okay, can you use those  
protocol parts and translate what  
this alien thing is saying?"  
It was something she should have thought of  
in the beginning. But, now was as good a  
time as any.  
"Of course! But what's in it for  
me?" Andy asked.  
"Let's put it this way: You  
don't push my buttons, and I,  
don't push yours." she remarked.  
"All right, fine." Andy  
relented. "But I'm not translating  
any of that touchy-feely crap!"

"Deal. Come on." Tex said,  
and started off. She turned, looking  
at the bomb in confusion. "Well are  
you coming?"  
"What am I gonna do, roll  
there? Pick me up ya dumb  
bitch!" Andy insulted.  
"Great, I can tell this is starting  
off well." Tex sighed, coming  
back over to pick up the bomb.  
"Hey, Tex. I bet you  
haven't had your hands on a ball  
this big since your morning scratch!"  
Andy cackled with laughter,  
"Ahahahahaheh, ahehahe,"  
Without warning, Tex dropped  
Andy, the ground shaking just slightly.  
"Heyy, aw come on, Tex,  
baby, where ya going, it's just a  
joke between the two of us guys, come  
on! Laugh it off big guy, laugh  
it off!" Tex glared at the bomb  
in pure fury. "Haha, hey  
Tex, when you walk away I can  
see where ya tucked it! Haha!"  
Tex, within her mind, thought about  
how bad an idea this really was.  
But, she had to do something to get the  
idiots from talking, and complaining.  
And in truth, she was curious to know  
what this big alien was saying.  
But, for now, she had to go tell  
Church.


	7. Previous Commitments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY all! Sorry that production of my works is going slow. Writer's block is crazy, and school's still going. But, that will only last for a few more weeks, then I'll be free to write to my heart's content! I hope you are enjoying this comedy!

Church looked at Tex,  
groaning in both confusion, and  
dismay.  
"You have got to be kidding me. There  
is no way I'm gonna let this  
happen."  
Tex had just explained her plan,  
how Andy could translate for the alien.  
How, more or less, he was willing  
to do so.  
"I told you, he can do it."  
Tex assured.  
"Yeah, I'm qualified." Andy  
protested.  
"Listen I don't doubt, that he  
can do it." Church said, sighing, and  
looking from the qualified killer, to the  
qualified dickhead. "I doubt that  
I want him to do it." Church  
finished.  
"Why?" Andy demanded, doing his  
best to glare at Church.  
"Well, you know what Andy?  
You're not exactly the most  
diplomatic of individuals."  
church pointed out.  
"That's bullshit! You're only  
saying that because you're a racist." Andy  
remarked, jumping to the first thing he  
could think of.  
Church was taken aback.  
"Racist?! Bombs are not a  
race!"  
"Eh, shut up ya dirty  
Shisno." Andy grumbled.  
Church almost broke completely  
at the mention of the word, as it was getting  
very, very annoying.  
"We finally make contact with an  
alien being, and our first attempt at  
communication is gonna be through a  
bomb?" Church said to nobody in  
particular, "Am I the only  
person who has a problem with this?"  
"Well unless you've got your  
English to Blarg-blarg dictionary,  
I don't think you got a choice,  
now do ya." Andy fired back.  
The two stood there for a moment in  
silence, which was only broken by the  
most stupid idiot ever.  
"I had one of those," Caboose  
said, not even knowing what they were talking  
about "But I threw it out. It  
didn't have many pictures."  
"I'm sure this'll be fine."  
Tex attempted to calm, and  
reassure Church once more.  
"You know I feel that I'm  
gonna regret this, but I feel  
even more that I just don't care, and that  
watching this whole thing unravel might  
be kinda interesting." Church said  
after another long moment of silence.  
Finally, after a third, he looked  
from Tex, to Andy, and back again, then  
said, "Go for it."  
"Alright, where's the alien?" Tex  
asked.  
Church looked at her in confusion,  
then, almost laughing, he answered,  
"Oh shit, I almost forgot."  
His voice had gone from pained,  
to almost bored, as the alien struck,  
and struck again at the back of  
Tucker's skull.  
"Ow, ow, ow," Tucker said.  
Neither the alien, nor the  
soldier saw Church, Tex,  
Andy, and Caboose come into the area.  
"Grif. Oh Griiiiiiiif,"  
Donut called, riding the strange  
purple vehicle. He was looking  
for the orange soldier, wherever he  
was. "Grif!"  
"Huh," Donut had spotted  
the Grif, and the soldier grunted,  
"Great."  
"There you are, where've you been?"  
Donut asked, coming to stand before  
Grif.  
"Right here." Grif said, tilting  
his head at the pink armored soldier.  
"I've been lookin' all over  
for you. I looked in the base, I  
looked around the base, I looked  
on top of the base," Donut  
almost paused to think, but just said "I  
looked in the base again,"   
"I think you need to learn what  
"all over" means." Grif  
interrupted.  
"Anyway, Sarge wants you  
to come back to the base, and,"  
"No," Grif intervened once  
again. He shook his head  
defiantly. "I'm not going to do  
it."  
"No? But I didn't tell you  
what he wants." Donut said.  
"Donut, it's Sarge. I know  
he doesn't want me to come into the  
base to help him eat ice cream,  
he wants me to do stuff. Work  
stuff." Stuff I would not like to do,  
Grif did not mention this.  
"But,"  
"Listen Donut, I know you're  
ridin' high on your new promotion  
right now, but don't think you can order  
me around. Me and Simmons we  
had a system. He didn't try  
to tell me what to do, and I  
didn't ignore him." Grif  
explained, purposefully looking  
away as he heard Donut's  
voice yet again.  
"Wait, but you ignored him all  
the time."  
"I'm sorry, wha," Grif  
turned back, "I wasn't listening  
to you. See, the system works. Learn  
the system Donut." And he  
turned away, dismissing the soldier.  
"Look at those jerks."  
Simmons grumbled, watching the other  
Red soldiers. "They don't know  
how good they have it. Alright Sheila,  
remember the plan. We don't  
wanna hurt them, I just wanna  
make them totally jealous for kicking  
me out." He looked to the tank,  
"How does my armor look, am  
I all blue?" he asked.  
"Yes!" was the tank's  
enthusiastic response.  
"Okay," SIMMONS said, and  
looked out to Red Base once more,  
"Let's start Operation Blue with

Envy. You know 'cause normally it's  
green, but I'm gon," having lost  
his train of thought, he tried once more  
to finish his statement, which did not need  
any explanation. "I'm blue, but  
it doesn't make any sense to say  
y-you know."  
After a moment, his voice rang  
through the canyon, with one word.  
"Attack!"   
"Hey Sheila, you know what's  
great? Being on Blue team, it's so  
awesome. Way more awesome than being  
on that ol' Red team. Anyone can  
be on Red team where you have to share a  
base, on Blue team, I get  
my own base." he called out,  
trying to spark jealousy into his  
old friend, Grif.  
"Is that Simmons?" Grif  
asked, looking over. "Hey  
Simmons, why are you painted  
blue?! Have you finally lost it?!"  
"This isn't working, they don't  
care. Sheila just shoot at them."  
"Firing main cannon."  
Sheila fired an explosive  
rocket down toward the Red base.  
Meanwhile, Donut returned  
to Sarge, bearing the bad news.  
"I did my best Sarge, but  
Grif said he wouldn't come help."  
"Son of a Ben 'n' Jerry,  
who's gonna help me eat all  
this ice cream we found?" Sarge  
asked, looking hopelessly away.  
"Aaaahh," Donut cried out,  
as something exploded against the side  
of the base. "We're under attack!"  
"Target locked." Sheila  
said coolly.  
"Donut, you formulate a  
retaliation strategy. I'll  
secure the rum raisin." Sarge  
ordered.  
"Oh-hohohoh, man. I'm  
gonna die." Tucker groaned.  
"Blargh arg-honk, largh,  
lwargh." the alien continued to speak  
in its unknown language.  
Caboose, Church, Tex, and  
Andy stood near the alien, every was '  
beating up Tucker.  
"What's he saying now Andy?"  
Caboose asked curiously.  
"Look guy, if you want me  
to translate for ya, you can't keep  
asking me every four seconds,  
what's he sayin' now Andy,  
what's he sayin' now? I'm  
gonna tell you what he's sayin',  
that's my freakin' job!" Andy  
ranted, looking from one soldier,  
to the next.  
"That's what he said? That's a  
weird thing to say. Uh, tell  
him I said okay, I will not ask  
any, more of uh... that and also, no."  
"I think I need a  
translator just for Caboose."  
Church insulted.  
"Wuarrrrgh!"  
"Okay basically he's uh,  
he says he's pissed off."  
"Oh rea, yea, no kidding.  
Tex, are we paying for this  
service?'" Church asked, turning  
to his ex girlfriend.  
"Just give him a chance."  
"Blargh, largh, wahublargh."  
"He says he came to claim  
some type of thing, and that the teal one  
took the thing,"  
"Blarg blaargh."  
"And that now the thing is gone."  
"Who's the teal one?" Tucker  
asked, trying to block the continuous,  
seemingly endless, attacks.  
"You are, idiot."  
"No way, I'm aqua.  
Teal's out." Tucker grunted as  
he said this last statement.  
"That thing that he's talkin' about  
must be that sword, and it's not broken  
it's right there."  
"Argh blargh!"  
"He says it only works with the  
hero who passes the trial of the  
windmill, and retrieves it from his  
resting place. For everyone else,  
it might as well be broken."  
Andy translated.  
"Uh oh."  
"Trial? Please, I fell  
in a hole, that's not a trial.  
I'm startin' to like this culture  
though, any dude who trips is  
a hero. I'm pretty sure that  
makes Caboose God."  
Tucker refrained from laughing aloud.   
"This all sounds like bullshit  
to me."  
"No he's right. It didn't  
work for me, remember?"  
"Of course it didn't work for  
you, you're a girl. I mean you can't  
even work the entertainment center back  
at the base. Doesn't mean the  
remote control is mythically  
attached to us." CHURCH retorted  
sarcastically.  
"Alright then you little smartass, you  
pick it up and try it." Tex  
challenged.  
Church took a tentative  
glance at the sword, then at the  
alien, it's large teeth showing.  
"Hur hur hur hur." The  
noise could have been a laughter, but  
Church was not quite sure. It was a  
laugh that intimidated the shit out of  
him.  
"Nah, I'll take his word for  
it."  
"Blargh blurg blabu blarg."  
"And now you gotta go with him,  
to fulfill the prophecy."  
"Fuck you." Tucker insulted.  
"Blar blarg blargh, hnnk  
hnnk."  
"Heh heh heh, good one. Uh,  
oh yeah, he, he's not too  
thrilled about it either." Andy replied.  
Tucker stood, just now having  
noticed the alien's furious beatings  
had stopped.  
"See I knew this was a bad  
idea. Sorry to fuck up your  
quest, dude, but I'm not going."  
Tucker said, stepping over to his  
friends.   
"Aaand if you don't go, he'll  
destroy the base, and kill  
everybody here." Andy continued.  
"Alright well have fun guys."  
Church said. He was having none of this  
cult bullshit.  
"Hey a quest sounds fun, come  
on Tucker!" Tex encouraged, the  
first signs of her showing excitement,  
ever.  
"Aheh, I think he should stay  
here, 'cause, I like that killin'  
everybody option."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special note:  
> SUNDAY, MAY 8! Be ready all you RVB fans, because Red Vs. Blue: Season 14 is coming the day after tomorrow!!!  
> Who's ready for some fun!


End file.
